


Cause and Effect of Candlenights

by simsical (serene_night)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angus is only mentioned, Anxiety, Cooking, Correct me if my tags are wrong, POV Taako (The Adventure Zone), for accuracy, glamour springs, originally titled - food for thought, the word 'elven' is used in place of human twice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serene_night/pseuds/simsical
Summary: The last time he wakes, Taako isn’t even sure he knows who he is and stumbles to the kitchen, reeling, not entirely there.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Cause and Effect of Candlenights

Macarons are a safe food, for Taako. They’re for when he feels most helpless, lost and alone. They’re quick, easy, and carry a particular sense of nostalgia that, rather than inspire upset, makes him remember a wholehearted kinda love.

It’s why, at Candlenights, struck by a nauseating, almost inelven sense of _loss_ , one so great his knees go weak and he’s shuddering for breath- he forgets all about Glamour Springs, forgets about the years he’s spent alone, forgets everything and an hour later is left in the kitchen surrounded by macarons. He’s flooded with warmth when he sees them, even more so when he carefully bites into one, the idea that ‘everything is going to be okay’ overwhelming his scattered senses.

It’s why, at Candlenights, he packs most of the macarons into the fridge but keeps a dozen or so in a seperate box.

It’s why, at Candlenights, he almost forcefully thrusts them at every person he converses with, starting with Magnus and ending with Angus.

It’s why, at Candlenights, when presented with the whole _if-the-lab-hits-the-surface-everyone-down-there-will-die-yes-that’s-a-bad-thing-taako_ sitch, Taako thinks to himself, eh, this is gonna be fine.

(It’s not fine, natch, but Taako’s pleased with the results regardless.)

* * *

Macarons began to follow Taako everywhere.

He makes them at 3am once, following a dream that consisted solely of static. Heavy, loud, scratching static that woke him intermittently throughout the night. The same static that came from trying to remember his youth; forming a thick cloud in his mind, wriggling and squirming and trying desperately to leave. It felt sentient, cruelly wrapping itself over Taako’s overwhelmed, overstimulated body. The last time he wakes, Taako isn’t even sure he knows who he is and stumbles to the kitchen, reeling, not entirely there.

He bakes twelve dozen macarons, varying in size and colour, not bothering to plate any of them before rhythmically, like a dance he learned years ago, throwing them out, dropping them one by one into the bin.

He gets through eight dozen before he’s lucid again.

He gets through another two before the shaking starts to stop.

He tries one, then, hesitant and tired, taken from the eleventh batch and is assaulted by a sharp, warm pang in his stomach and instinctively is reminded of home. It’s indescribable in that it’s almost painful to think about but Taako chokes back a sob and takes a minute to breathe.

He’s managed to keep the kitchen relatively clean, fuck yeah Taako, and so he moves with full awareness now, searching for one of their more ornate plates. He arranges the remaining macarons in a tower, meticulously lining them all because the clean arrangement makes him feel good. He covers them with the largest glass bowl he can get his hands on and takes a moment to appreciate them.

The moment lasts a little too long.

Taako moves away, ignoring the brief stint of panic when he realises his umbrella was with him in the kitchen, propped on the doorframe. He tries not to hesitate as he strides past and grabs it, needing a release that isn’t this God damned kitchen, leaving his shared space to traverse the moon.

When he finally returns, a full twelve exhausting hours later, he finds the plate and bowl washed up and returned to their respective cupboards, no macarons in sight as intended. All evidence save for the memories of Taako’s night are gone. And he rationalises it in his mind, shrugging off any lasting guilt and disgust because hey, if there’s nothing to say Taako was here then fuck! Not his problem.

Taako goes to his room, satisfied, and sleeps.

* * *

Taako almost exclusively eats what he makes, which is not a lot because the majority of it is made deep in the night, and thrown out immediately. Taako sees no problem with this, it’s a non issue, and the last time Magnus or Merle tried to question him he’d hidden behind a version of himself where everyone was a stranger, and strangers meant danger, and _Hey Merle, do me a capital ‘F’ favour and take your useless bullshit to someone who actually cares_ \- and the two have thus since learned to keep their concern to themselves.

Taako doesn’t need to be physically strong, hardly needs to be mentally strong so much as stable, and behaves as he always has in the BoB.

Except, after Candlenights, he starts toting around a small magically enhanced pouch. He brings it out during one of their training exercises down on the surface. He’s using Magnus’ leg as a headrest, because his head fucking hurts and he’s not lying on the ground like an animal, while Magnus rations out some dried meat between himself and Merle. He keeps a few strips to the side which, Taako knows, are for him, should he want them. He still doesn’t know how he feels about it. Tells himself he doesn’t want to know and leaves it at that.

So while Magnus does his thing, and Merle does _his_ thing, Taako does His thing, and brings out his newly-magically enhanced pouch and pulls from it a perfect, pink macaron and eats it. Nibbles it, first, before biting and chewing as anybody would, humming at the taste, happy to feel the endless gnawing of his stomach fade ever so slightly.

It’s not a big deal, and Taako takes one more- a green one, this time- before pulling the magically enhanced pouch tight and returning it to its resting place.

It’s not a big deal _and yet_ \- he can feel Magnus stiffen beneath him, can feel Merle’s eyes on him as he chews and swallows. It’s unsettling, just a little, and Taako doesn’t look at either of them until he’s done- even then closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to meet theirs. He pretends it’s the pouch that’s done it- can imagine Magnus claiming it’s gross to keep unwrapped food like that despite believing in the three-second rule. Can imagine showing them just how many bad boys he’s stuffed in there, with all their individual health boosts and slow releasing energies and whatnot.

He imagines a scene where he’s not afraid of himself, not afraid of his ‘creations’ not afraid at the creeping trust in his heart or the two people he thinks that maybe, probably, almost definitely, without hesitation he’d die to protect.

He falls asleep, lost in the comfort of the fire and Magnus and Merle and his own imagination.


End file.
